Lovely Portals of Night
by Felicia Angel
Summary: Doctor Who/Sherlock Holmes: As Holmes and Lestrade investigate murders that hit too close to home, Watson meets up with a singular woman called Donna Noble. So what's the connection? Now Complete!
1. The Demon Aloft

Disclaimer: I don't own _Doctor Who_ or Sherlock Holmes. I don't even own the meeting, since it happened apparently during the time of the 8th Doctor or something like that, but this is me ignoring it completely. -IGNORE!-

Author Notes: Blame Jeremy Brett, Protector of the Gray Fortress, KCS, Pompey and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I'd blame the people who created Doctor Who as well, but I think I already have. Not sure if I have yet...if I haven't, totally blame them too, though I'd blame the 9th more for getting me into it, the 10th for being fine and keeping me interested, and Donna for being the best Companion so far.

Rose's a complete Mary Sue (though I liked her sometimes) and Martha, she got the short-end of the stick and didn't know what to do with it. Donna at least took the stick and beat him with it, or beat up something else with it, even when she first came in.

Synopsis: Lestrade and Holmes trail a murderer while Watson finds himself in the company of a singular woman bent on his protection. But what is the connection?

_**Lovely Portals of Night**_

_How lovely are the portals of the night, when stars come out to watch daylight die. ~Thomas Cole_

The Demon Aloft, twice the score to cut it

If Lestrade didn't kill Gregson for giving him this assignment, he most assuredly would ask Holmes for advice on it. Lord knew he probably held his share of secrets and this was possibly one that he wouldn't mind keeping for the Inspector.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose and trying to concentrate and not think of going to Holmes again, Lestrade set himself back to his task. He had been forced to call upon Holmes twice in as many months, and he disliked the fact. Not because Holmes never took the credit if he could help it, but because he was attempting as much as he could to find the 'threads', as Holmes called them, himself. Years of working with him, or around him, had taught Lestrade to respect the consulting detective's methods, and despite his rather abrasive and condescending nature, Lestrade at least enjoyed the company of Doctor Watson enough that he would return on random events to speak of vague cases. But this case was taking up all of his time, so much so that he didn't know if he had the time to consult Holmes.

Standing and stretching, Lestrade walked around his desk, beginning to reconsider the facts from whatever point of view he could think of. In the morning around 6 o'clock, a maid had found Mr. John Wilsan dead in his room from a soft-nose revolver bullet. The window had been opened and a good length of strong ivy had showed off traces of use. There had been no struggle, and the coroner put the time of death at 3.08 in the morning. Along with obvious signs of it being a murder, there was a note within the victim's hand which read "The Demon Aloft, twice the score to cut it" but had no other clues. There was no water mark, it was simply paper with nothing unique to it, and the ink was the cheap kind found just about anywhere. There were no witnesses, and for some reason the noise of the gun had not been heard, so Lestrade realized it had to be muffled by something, though they had yet to find the item but it appeared a pillow was missing.

Motive…if ever there was a more normal and placid man then Mr. Wilsan, Lestrade didn't know him. He lived a normal life and had no enemies, hardly a fault…there was no reason for such an act, or for the note. There was no connection that any of them could see.

So maybe in the morning—

Lestrade groaned and sat, leaning back in his chair and then drumming his fingers on the table. A man named John Wilsan was dead. The man had been in the Army, had been in battles but nothing very interesting happened to him. He returned in 1880, the same time as Watson, and established himself in London. He led a very dull and normal life of a writer of—

Lestrade caught a small thread and blinked. John Wilsan's initials were the same as Watson's initials, but that could be a coincidence. While he wasn't one to belief in superstitions, he did know something about numbers, and there was the same amount of numbers in Watson's name as in Wilsan's. Both were in the Army, both returned at the same time, both were writers…but Wilson wasn't a doctor.

Lestrade thought back to a few years before, to the case which brought Sherlock Holmes back to England and to life, much to his surprise and relief. Moran had used a soft-nose revolver bullet that created no sound with a rifle, but there was only one of it's kind and the schematics of it never left the Yard.

A knock on his door caused him to blink at his watch and bark the order to come in. He'd been up working on the case since 7 and it was nearly 5 in the morning.

"Inspector," the constable said, "we have another murder, and another one of the papers."

"What?" Lestrade gasped, grabbing his coat and hat from it's rack.

"Yes Inspector, but this is different. We only realized the connection because of the paper with the body," the young man paused to swallow before continuing, "Inspector…the body was partly eaten by a giant dog."

* * *

The body of man and dog were in the same room, and Lestrade was not ready for such a sight really, even after following Holmes and Watson during that Baskerville case. He went about getting the information, trying to hold down his panic and the urge to go and get Holmes _now_ until the official channels were closed and he could leave for Baker Street, ungodly hour that it was. Still, the hopes that he would only wake Holmes and not the Doctor was a high priority, as he would rather have Holmes worrying instead of both, and he knew that Holmes would ensure Watson's safety no matter what. He still recalled a few cases where the good doctor had been hurt and the felon was more then happy to be put into police custody. The few that didn't make it to court were all usually found to be due to self-defense, either on Holmes or Watson's part, and Lestade, along with a few others in the Yard, were not quick to bring up any point against it, especially after more then one had seen the effect that Holmes' absence had done to Watson. A few thoughts on the matter usually ended with the thought that Holmes might not survive Watson's death, or if he did it would only be because crime rates soared and all the criminal masterminds were let loose.

Another reason for Lestrade to call upon Holmes so early, though he was somewhat happy to see that Holmes was indeed awake, even though he looked like he normally did when he hadn't had a case for a week. His gray eyes looked over the note as Lestrade laid out the details of the two cases, though he currently omitted the names in the hopes that he could get Holmes' curiosity up before adding that particular piece.

"I see that it is indeed a hard case," Holmes told him, pacing a little, "but there are also very few facts, Lestrade, and I know you are holding something back from me!"

Confound him and his analysis! Lestrade shifted in his chair before saying, "I'd rather tell you outside of this place, Mr. Holmes."

Holmes frowned at the pronouncement, then nodded, heading inside of his room to change and motioning to Lestrade to leave, telling Mrs. Hudson rather quietly that if the Doctor inquired, say that he had gone out on an early case and would return when he could. She nodded, still a little sleepy, and the two headed into the waiting cab before Holmes said, "Now, Lestrade, what was so dire that you didn't wish to risk Watson overhearing it?"

With a deep breath, Lestrade outlined what he knew of the two men who had been killed, what their names were, and what he suspected might come up along the way.

* * *

_Watson_

The woman standing before the door of 221b Baker Street was one which I shall not forget for a very long while, nor, indeed, shall I try to. The first glance of her showed off a remarkable figure, with dark ginger hair done up in the current fashion, a lovely dark hat that suited her outfit and a long dress that was quite fashionable. She looked over at the number then, upon approach, at me quickly, revealing intelligent and strong eyes as well as an equally lovely and strong face.

"May I help you?" I asked.

"You live here?" she questioned, motioning to the shared rooms with Holmes. At my nod, she smiled and nodded. "Then yes, but the thing is…well…I'm not really here for _help_."

I frowned as we headed inside, I asking Mrs. Hudson for some tea and learning that Holmes, who had left earlier that day with Lestrade, was _still _out on the case and had not returned.

"What are you here for, then?" I asked as we reached the sitting room, offering a chair that she refused quickly, shifting from foot to foot.

"It's about a possible murder," she told me, "See, I'm traveling with a friend of mine, a Doctor, and we found out that someone is after you."

I froze and blinked at the pronouncement, trying to figure out how she'd gotten to that with what facts I had. "Me?"

She straightened, nodding, "You _are _Doctor Watson, right?"

"I am…but how did you--."  
She smiled, "I'm a fan, actually, a huge one when I was a little younger. Read all but a few of your stories about Mr. Holmes and you. You…well, you're a little _grayer _then I imagined, but you're exactly how I imagined you from the stories as well. Plus I don't think Mr. Holmes would've been checking out my ankles so much."

While I was happy to have such a person in the room, I was still a little shaken at the pronouncement and asked again how she was sure I'd be next on the list.

"It's involved," she told me, "Quite a bit, in fact. You sure you want to hear it all?"

I nodded and she finally took a seat, near me on the settee, and said, "When I said I traveled, I meant all over, every world and time you can imagine. I have some proof, if you want it, and I'm not crazy before you suggest it either. The Doctor, he's an alien, and he has this machine that can take us anywhere or anywhen you'd like. So we traveled off to this nice planet where there are every type of translation you can get, and the Doctor warned me some of them were off. I noticed right away a few of the books I read and even one of yours had a bunch of misspellings. Someone who knew of him asked for his help, 'cause this man who read yours got hold of a transport that could take him back in time." She stopped for a breath. "He wanted to go back here, and we found one of your books with your name circled. Only problem was they had a few notes, not all of them. I knew more about you then he did, but he knew enough that he might be able to find you and kill you." She paused again, waiting for a question before forging on, "The Doctor said he couldn't be about London 'cause of some trouble he had a few years back at Torchwood House involving a were-wolf and trying to kill the Queen…"

I found my voice at last, "Wait, wait…you're saying a man who's an alien…and who apparently looks human enough to pass off among us, is going to try and kill me because my stories were misinterpreted?"

She nodded. "The Doctor explained it like translating something from English to American English, then fitting it with the times by changing values and beliefs, and then returning it to English and translating it into something like Chinese and a phonetic alphabet…you lose something within each translation and can't be sure if it's all the same as the original or not. The man's beliefs were such that he thought you're being abused by Holmes, and feels that killing you is the only way to free you of the influence."

"WHAT?"

"I'm just saying what the Doctor and the man's psychologist said!"

"Psy—what?"

She blinked and nodded. "See, like that! A man who examines other's heads to see what's wrong."

"Like Dr. Mortimor?"  
"No, like Freud."

"Ah, an alienist."

"That's a stupid term for it."

"And psychologist is better?"

"It is."

"Are you so certain?"  
"_Alienist _sounds like a bloomin' alien specialist. _Psyche_ is mind, so _psychologist _is better."

The argument was so odd in contrast, as well as her posture and tone so serious in the matter, that I almost had to laugh at the whole situation. I was in danger from something or another that appeared to be extra-terrestrial, and now here I was arguing about a _word_ with a woman who claimed to have been to that planet!

I took in a breath before asking, "Why does he think I'm being abused by Holmes?"

The woman sat back and shrugged. "Dunno. I didn't read the books he had, but I do know that he's not sure what your last name is, and that he can't read our English very well. He has a few conflicting issues as well, so that might hurt other in looking for you."

I frowned at the thought, shifting before saying, "I take it you can't tell the police due…what you mentioned earlier?"

"The whole werewolf thing?"

I nodded, then frowned as I thought about it. "Should I ask?"

"All I know about it was something that involved Queen Victoria, a werewolf being that apparently wanted to possess her, and the Doctor being Knighted then banished in pretty much the same breath."

I blinked at the pronouncement, said obviously from second-hand knowledge. "Really?"

"He doesn't stay anywhere long enough for him to care, I think."

"Ah." There was some part of that which I could almost imagine like Holmes, a man in a black mood randomly who went about solving problems and refusing whatever he could for as long as he could, the thrill of the 'game' being more important then rewards.

The woman looked over at me before saying, "I'm not crazy, you know."

"No, no, I believe you," I told her, straightening before leaning forward and adding, "Not that if you have proof I wouldn't want to see it, if only to help convince Holmes that it's not _you _who wish me harm. I'm still quite put-out that my stories were misread in such a way as well."

The truth is I understood it to some respects. I had been to at least one signing of a recent story, _The Hound of the Baskervilles_, that had proved to be book-length, and was accosted by a few people who believed I shouldn't be Holmes' friend or biographer due to the events from "The Final Problem", the news that he was really alive, and due to him leaving me 'unguarded and alone' to face any danger during the adventure on the moor, as well as on other adventures which I had written about. At least one felt I was 'under appreciated' as a biographer and should leave, and still another offered that they didn't see how I could call someone as 'self-centered' as Holmes a friend. At the same time, my calm words and demeanor seemed to stop many of the questions or accusations, and I had not spoken to Holmes about it, though I am sure he is aware of some of the ideas put forth and has gotten his fair share of complaints about me or about my treatment.

"I am sorry," I finally said with a smile, "I didn't get your name."

She smiled at me, obviously happy to see how well I was taking the odd news. "It's Donna Noble. A pleasure to meet you, Doctor Watson."


	2. Seven Beauties

Seven Beauties, weeping at military midnight

Lestrade knew of the legends and the times that Holmes had to deal with rather large dogs in the past: that affair in the country, the one that the good Doctor labeled "The Adventure of the Copper Beeches", and the one with the Baskerville hound. However, he had never quite seen one in the city that involved a dog of any unnatural size, especially one so close to the large hound-mastiff that Watson had shot down on that foggy, dark night in Dartmoor.

Holmes looked around, Lestrade following his movements with his eyes unless they came dangerously close to the body. Despite being covered, Lestrade had seen the body and was not in a hurry to do so again.

"And the note was found near the body, just as the other," Holmes observed, frowning at the newest note and oddity that they had found in the area. Lestrade replied the affirmative, not offering anything else as there was nothing else to offer. There were no fingerprints, and the alarm had been raised due to the yell of the man being attacked by the dog. The alarm was at 3.40 am, and by the time they'd gotten in nearly nine minutes later, the man had been dead for at least two, while the savage hound had to be shot before it claimed another life.

Lestrade looked over his own book again as Holmes finished looking over the crime-scene. This John, named Witsan, had been a surgeon but hadn't served in the Army, and was also a writer but wasn't as popular as Watson was. So far, the two men were almost like Watson in name and in life, but not enough to be Watson.

Still, Lestrade was worried. Holmes had made a number of enemies, both before his return and after, and despite his tendency to not always agree with Holmes' methods, Lestrade didn't want Holmes to deal with such a loss, nor for Watson to go through the loss again.

"I do have a general outline of what type of man we are looking for," Holmes said, standing and going over to Lestrade, "but I'm afraid it's very general. He is between 5'7" and 5'9", and fidgets a good deal, shifting weight from side to side. He is methodical and didn't spend a lot of energy to get into the house or out after he brought in the hound. He knows my methods, or the methods that could be used, as evident by him taking the time to trample all over the garden despite the chances of being caught, though it lowered when the crowd began to gather after the alarm was raised. He must be dressed like a person of no great status, so that he's able to get around easily."

"In other words," Lestrade with a sigh as he put his notebook back and glared at the floor like it was to blame for not revealing more, "he's half of London."

"A little more, but yes."

Lestrade wasn't sure if he should be happy or not about the fact that Holmes sounded as annoyed as he did at the pronouncement.

* * *

_Holmes_

I was growing more concerned about my time away from Baker Street, but having put in a word with the Irregulars that anything odd was to be sent back to me as soon as possible helped ease the thoughts a little, though not by much. I worked mostly with Lestrade on the paper and the two odd notes, as well as trying hard to not note the similarities to Watson in size, appearance, age, and almost all factors save one or two. What this man was trying to do was something that was currently beyond me, and I looked over the map that we'd made so far of the two murders, frowning upon them and the map. Both were done in the early part of the morning, around 3 am and the last one closer to 4 am. Both had notes somewhere nearby that alluded to time of some sort, or that dealt with something mythological. But what? There was no connection I could made of a Demon's Head or Seven Beauties, and I was not eager for a third murder to cast more light upon the situation, though I was becoming increasingly certain that another would come up, this one of someone who was either closer to being Watson, or Watson himself…

I shook away that thought and went back on the line of thought as a note came in from one the Irregulars, stating a woman had arrived and was still in Baker Street with Watson. I frowned at the thought, realizing I had not left any instructions dealing with possible clients to Watson and that he could be entertaining her, thinking I would return and take up her case.

Making my apologies to Lestrade and him waving them off as he worked more on trying to decipher the case, I headed over to my home, hoping that I could easily dissuade the woman or figure out the case, or even have it overlap with this one and find something more conclusive then just the odd notes and such.

I found Mrs. Hudson bringing up a tray of tea, and motioned for silence as I crept into my own room, hoping to overhear some of the conversation and to see what I had to deal with before entering.

She nodded, though obviously disapproved of my deception of the good doctor before entering the room, I sneaking into my own after the door had closed.

I heard Watson thank Mrs. Hudson for the tea and then, after she left, go back to talking briefly to the woman about a man she called "the Doctor", stating she'd known him for a little while and was determined to travel with him 'forever'.

"But what about marriage?"

"You married and still kept up with Holmes. If I could do the same thing and still travel with him, I would." The woman paused before saying, "Strange thing is, I've met more guys traveling _with _him then I ever did before."

"Oh?"

"Before it was just work, and then someone gave me coffee. I wore him down, got a wedding out of it, and what happens next? I find out he'd rather have an alien spider then me!"

I blinked as Watson laughed suddenly. Good Lord, what had the woman put in the tea when Watson wasn't looking?

"I'm dead serious!"

"I…I'm sorry, but…an alien spider?"

"Don't get me _started _on the Doctor askin' me if I had money while I was running around in my _wedding dress_, not to mention he seemed to think that looking me over was more important then getting me to church on time. Then they start the reception without me, and I walk in on my fiancée dancing with some tart from work."

Watson laughed even more, and I managed to look out my room to see him at the table with a young woman, her hair red and her dress normal for women of the day, her back to me.

"Again…"

"It's okay. I learned to laugh at it afterwards. Besides, after I learned what type of man he _really _was, I wasn't all that sad to lose him. Still…I wonder what it would've been like, having not given up that first offer to travel."

I saw Watson frown at it, looking over at her. "Why did you give it up?"

She looked over and let out a sigh. "I don't think he needed _me _at that point. He had just lost someone, and I realized that he needed someone to stop him, but he seemed to get that just by landing somewhere and seeing where he was. I hoped he got some help over that time, but I'm pretty sure his heart was broken right before I came up, so he needed to heal first. But when I did find him, let me tell you…I was ready."

"Packed and everything?"

She must have smiled, because Watson smiled back at her as she stated, "Oh yes. And then he goes off on how he just wants a mate. I didn't realize how much I could toy with him and I went off on telling him we weren't mating."

Watson laughed again. "You didn't!"

"Made him try to work that out for a full minute, I did, and he still thinks I was serious! The great sod. You should've seen him when I wanted to head over and check on my mum and grandda. I told him I was 'leavin' and the first thing he pulls out is all the lovely places he was gonna take me, like he was proposing marriage and all the things he could give me instead of the other guy, and then he gets it. I had such a _laugh _on the way over for that."

A small twinge of jealously came up as I saw Watson nodding, listening to the woman as intently as he listened to some of my deductions while she outlined something preposterous, involving the men she'd met that included someone who might've been 'just part of the program' when they'd been in a large library instead of at a beach, and then again when they crashed a party that later involved them solving a series of murders and a mystery that neither of them could reveal to anyone because "honestly, who would believe that anyone loses their memory over a giant wasp-creature?" Who was this woman, exactly, and what was it that she was doing in my consulting-room?

Watson looked at his watch then back at the woman. "I would've thought Holmes would have returned by now…he must be on a rather important case."

The woman nodded, putting a hand on Watson's arm. "I came here to protect _you_, not him. So far as we could tell, you're the one in danger, not him, so it doesn't matter to me if he's here or not." She stopped as she removed her hand from Watson's arm and must have been frowning at her own words. "Sorry. Just thought of what I would think, if anyone told me that about the Doctor."

Watson nodded, getting up to get himself a cigarette. "But the trouble is _not knowing_ when the danger is going to come. It was at least a little less, knowing it was Moriarty when I was with Holmes, but…"

I decided that I'd heard enough, and made a rather grand and somewhat noisy entrance through the front room, getting the woman to turn around so I could examine her a little more.

She was indeed the type that someone might trust, her face as open and honest as Watson's could be at times, though right now she looked at me as someone who had intruded (as if she wasn't an intruder herself!) before realizing who I was and shifting as Watson rambled off a quick introduction of her as Miss Donna Noble.

I nodded, looking her over again as I saw many different mannerisms that told me she wasn't used to such dress, and had taken more comfort in sitting then in standing, that she obviously traveled and ran a good deal in her travels, and that she was going to try and be of some help, no matter what either of us said. This might take a few well-placed words to get her to realize I could ensure Watson's safety.

* * *

_Watson_

Holmes had barely walked in and just as barely looked over Miss Noble before I said, "She believes there's going to be—"

"A threat on your life," Holmes ended, causing Miss Noble to glare at the back of his head as he walked into his rooms and took off his coat, flinging it away. I frowned and realized he either deduced it or had, more likely, been listening in while we were conversing. Of course, if he had and didn't have the prior knowledge of Miss Noble's background, he would more then likely think she belonged in an institute. "I hope she explained some of it, or at least that one of you will be happy enough to fill me in on _why _she would think that."

Miss Noble looked over at me, as if seeing if I wished to speak or if she would repeat herself. I gave her a nod, not wanting to lose anything as she said, "Well, my friend and I happened to travel somewhere and got involved with trying to round up some escaped convicts. One of them escaped in the mess and we learned from his doctor that he was obsessed with Doctor Watson…only he didn't know a lot about him, just random facts and his first name. He seemed to think, after reading a mangled version of the doctor's stories about your cases and him, that the doctor was a type of…sacrificial friend, someone that you only have around as a…barrier or guard, but not as a true friend. I guess his thought is that being that type of a friend isn't one at all."

"So he means to kill Watson in order to free him of my 'influence'?" Holmes asked, sounding annoyed and incredulous to it.

"As far as we could tell, yes."

"And your friend?"

She shifted before straightening, saying, "I won't lie, but he said he couldn't be seen around London. He's in hiding, and I don't intend to bring him out unless I have to. I'd rather have _you _helping me, Mr. Holmes, since he admits that your one of the smarter men in London right now and possibly the only one who could stop the man."

Holmes looked at her sharply, and to her credit Miss Noble didn't flinch under the gaze before Holmes turned to get his pipe and some tobacco. "I hope you'd at least tell me more, Miss Noble."

She looked ready to put her hands on her hips, but refrained after a look to me before asking, "Like what?"

"Where was the man when he escaped? If he was in England or anywhere near it, news would have been in the paper, and yet there's been nothing from that end. Your friend, if he cannot enter London or be seen, is obviously a criminal and I should not be seen doing business with the associates--."

I knew Miss Noble was passionate, after having a few conversations with her and especially after her vehemence over one word, but I didn't expect her to stomp over and point at Holmes, almost poking him in the chest as he tried to back up but found himself caught between the fireplace and my desk. "Now you look here! I don't care how important or famous or clever you think you are, but I'm talkin' about your friend's _life _being in danger and you have the nerve to say that _I _might be part of it! Some famous detective you are! You didn't hear about it 'cause it took place on some other planet, and 'cause it was sometime long after you died, and I only got to go there because of the Doctor agreeing to take me in as his traveling mate and 'cause he wanted to get over what happened on that library-planet with that River lady who had some relationship with him in her past and his future and it's all complicated and messed up and _your friend's life is in danger you great prat!_"

Holmes opened his mouth to speak but Miss Noble ploughed on, oblivious to Holmes' attempts at getting a word in edgewise as I stood, trying to make sense of the man, who stood taller then the red-haired woman, being told off by someone who, if anyone wandered in on the conversation, would not be making sense and would be considered overly hysterical.

"Now see here, Miss—"

"You see here you great bit of nothing--!"

"How dare you insinuate—!"

"Insinuate nothing, I'm tellin' you right now you're gonna take care of your friend or _I will!_"

"You will do no such thing, he is _my _friend and _I _will do what I can to ensure he remains on this earth!"

"OH, like you do that so well!"

I started to speak as Holmes, now rising to his full height and obviously not in full control of his emotions, said in a deadly voice, "And what does that mean?"

If Miss Noble knew the dangerous territory she wandered into, she was obviously oblivious to it or understood the danger and how to navigate it. "It means, _Mr. Holmes_, that I'm hard-pressed to see _why _you haven't jumped at the idea of even losing your friend! It's no secret that you'd do what you could to ensure he's safe, and instead of doing that, you're here _arguing _with me and allowing me to distract you. If _my _best friend was in danger, I'd at least find out what I could and wouldn't question it so bloody much!"

I held by breath for a second, unsure who would strike next, and was much relieved when I saw Holmes visibly relax before saying simply, in a normal tone of voice like discussing the weather, "There have been two murders. Both men have resembled some aspect of Watson's life, and both were killed in a fashion much like an older murder that we have dealt with."

Miss Noble moved back, her face showing surprise and fear as I walked up, touching Holmes' shoulder. "What happened?"

"Mr. John Wilsan, also of the Army and a writer but not a doctor, was killed two nights ago at 3.08 am by a soft-nose revolver bullet, much like the Honorable Robert Adair but without the air-gun behind it. Yesterday, Mr. John Witsan was killed and partly eaten by a giant hound-mastiff cross, which was shot in his room. His death was about 3.47 am. Both had rather odd riddles with them, and thus far are the only connecting factors of the two cases. Lestrade is working them, and asked for my help. Even _he _can see the similarities."

"Oh Lord," Miss Noble muttered, "the man's already _here_. But…but we were _right behind him_. It couldn't have been more then an hour, he said!"

I walked over and put a hand on Miss Noble's shoulder, sitting her once more on the sette before saying, "You need to tell Holmes about that ship, and everything you have told me. If you have some evidence to prove your claim, now would be the time for it as well."

Holmes held up his hand, stopping Miss Noble. "I'd like to bring in Lestrade as well. If we are, as you said, dealing with a man outside of our time and from another world, we need to figure out how to stop him as well as how to bring him to justice."

"I could ask the Doctor," Miss Noble said, "he'll probably give us the best advice."

Holmes finally nodded, sending off a telegram to Lestrade and leaving myself to calm down Miss Noble as well as Holmes, for it was obvious that the news and the two murders had shaken him. I was trying to remain as calm as I could, knowing that if I panicked then things would turn to the murder's favor too quickly. I rang for something light to eat, which Holmes did not partake in up until Miss Noble shoved a plate his way and demanded he ate before she shoved it down his throat. While I don't doubt she would've done it, I must admit it was, in the very least, one of the few comical things I'd seen between her and Holmes.

**Author's Quick End Note: Internet tea of choice if you can guess what the clues are before I post the next chapter!**


	3. The Chained Maiden

The Chained Maiden, linked three by ten

Lestrade frowned at the woman as she tapped on the odd device before her, waiting for him to give the verdict after what he heard. A blue box that traveled space and time, within it a man who was not a man but something called a Time Lord? It was hard to believe, but so was the idea of someone taking some of Watson's more famous stories about Holmes and using them to murder while leaving odd notes about.

"Well?" Ginger…Miss Noble…asked Lestrade as he finally shrugged.

"It all sounds rather…"

"Off?" she offered, smiling as if understanding his predicament.

"Yes, if you don't mind me saying so. Sadly, this whole thing is rather…off…so I can't be sure if I should believe we're dealing with something out of this world, or if we're just dealing with two parties that are just as crazy as the other. No offense, miss."

"None taken," she muttered, holding up the item before saying, "I've got it ready, do you want me to prove it?"

Lestrade nodded, unsure as to if he was ready for what she said was really a 'portable telephone' or something of the sort. The three gathered around as she pressed something on it, then there was something like a ring before a voice came from the item, too thin to hold anything like that.

"_Donna, is that you? Have you found it? If this is Martha, I haven't the time and I didn't give you a universal phone just to call me at every crisis, I thought you said—_"

"DOCTOR!" Miss Noble growled a little loudly, "I'm not alone!"

There was a long pause before the voice of the young man said, "_Oh…so you found him?_"

"We were a little late by about a day, it appears. He's killed two men…"

There was an annoyed and hurt sound, "_We were just behind him! I swore we were, but maybe we were off. Did I tell you about that mauve item we found during—_"

"DOCTOR."

"_Sorry. Who's with you?_"

"Inspector Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes, and Doctor Watson."

This pause was much longer, and Lestrade looked at Holmes, who seemed amazed and intrigued by the device before the man, Doctor, on the other end said, "_Pull the other one._"

"I am telling the truth."  
"_Yeah but…I mean…there's really a 221b Baker Street? Oh, this is brilliant! Fantastic! The murders are horrible and should be stopped, obviously, but this is fantastic still! Oh, gentlemen, you have _no _idea how much I want to meet you all!_"

Lestrade motioned to the phone, and Donna nodded, stating, "If you're done being such a fanboy about them, Inspector Lestrade—" she glanced at Holmes and then said, "and Mr. Holmes wanna ask you something."

"_Not at the same time, I hope, that might be confusing._"

Lestrade was now convinced the man was insane, but in the same type of way that Holmes was so it made him okay, just hard to work with. "What do you know about our man? All we have is a general idea but no eye-witnesses, and as far as we can tell he's just a common, everyday-sort of person."

There was a mild snort from the other end of the item. "_Well, he is…for his time and yours, I would think. I only know that he got a little obsessive over the idea of Watson being Holmes' shadow, and after I talked with his own alienst I learned that his sister was in something like that, only he thought she was being abused and ended up killing the man…that's why he was in jail in the first place, and he started reading the stories one day. Problem is, he decided that he killed the wrong person, but he couldn't get out and kill his sister._"

"So how did he get here?" Holmes asked.

"_They were testing something out, a machine that allows thing and people to travel back and forth in time to just observe. A few people go by on field trips to the past, and he ran in, held some people hostage, and used it. I was able to track him, but I guess I got it off. Sorry…I meant to catch him before anyone was hurt._"

Holmes sat back as Lestrade pulled out the notes, saying to the Doctor as Holmes stood, getting his pipe refilled, "It's odd, he left a few notes near the bodies as well."

"_Did he?_"

Lestrade read them off, and there was a much longer pause before the Doctor said, "_No clue there, sorry._"

"What happened to being such a brilliant space-man?" Donna muttered, looking over the messages and frowning. "The second one is the Pleiades."

The trio looked at her as the Doctor said through the item, "_Lovely system, that, we should go there—wait, what?_"

Donna looked down and said, "You have a star map for Earth, right? So check out +24 degrees and…what time did this one die?"

"3.47," Lestrade said, frowning, "What do you mean anyway?"

Watson blinked and smiled. "Of course! I learned some astronomy when I was a lad…the times of death are the right ascension, and the numbers in the riddles are the declination!"

Donna was about to continue when the Doctor in the item shouted, "_Oh that's not good…_"

"What?" everyone asked, looking at the item before the Doctor added, "_It means he's not randomly picking people off; he's _choosing _them and leaving the bloody clues! Donna, I have to go, you keep to Watson and make sure he's okay. I have to go and get something. If you catch him, though, you know what to do!_" There was a sound like a click before Miss Noble closed the item, returning it to her purse then continued, "My grandda does astronomy. Lemme see the other one." She looked at it, frowning before saying, "Algol…it's a star in Perseus. The problem is that now we have those two at 3am, but also the ones from midnight to 3."

"In other words," Lestrade said, "we have to wait for a third murder before we get a general idea of what time the killer might strike."

Holmes shook his head. "We already have it. Between midnight and 3, he will commit a murder and use it to taunt us. It will bring us closer to the time that he may attempt to kill Watson. And that, my dear Lestrade, is enough to at least try and stop him before he kills someone else!"

* * *

_Watson_

I and Miss Noble headed off to the library as Holmes and Lestrade went to try and figure out another person who could be the next victim. I shudder still to think of what it meant, knowing someone was out there picking off people like me and leaving clues for whatever reason to taunt Holmes and Lestrade with until he came after me. If anything happened to me, Holmes…

I banished that thought as we pulled out a star map of the Northern Hemisphere to search for the two stars mentioned thus far, hoping for something that could give us a clue to give to Holmes or the Doctor. Now that we had something to work with besides the fact that the two men had been close to my name and had some of the same factors in their lives as mine, we could at least work.

Miss Noble marked the two stars, frowning as she looked at the expanse of stars in front of us as well as to either side. "This is a little larger then I thought."

I smiled at her reassuringly before looking for the times. "I have to admit it is as well, but we have to go on the idea that he doesn't want attention brought to himself. I would guess he picks before this time, but…" I realized that between midnight and three, there were indeed a good amount of stars for the person to pick from, making me sit. "Perhaps it would be easier to figure out what he will kill them with."

Miss Noble let out another sigh and sat next to me, looking at the group then at the two before saying, "Is it true that Holmes doesn't care about astronomy?"

"Every word I write is true, even the parts I omit," I told her with a smile, getting her to sit up and look over the star map again.

"Like those three years. You omitted that."

I disliked that thought, but I nodded. "I did. I doubt I could ever write what happened between deciding to write the truth about Moriarty and when Holmes returned. Even though it'd been a year, it helped when I wrote that grouping, and as much as I disliked writing about the man, I couldn't write up our first encounter in _The Valley of Fear_ because I doubted it would go over well…and on top of that, there was no _proof _he was behind the murder either. When we ran for the continent, though, all the evidence was there, and all that remained was Moriarty and, to my surprise, his confident Moran."

She traced the outline of Andromeda as I said this, going for one of the others before saying, "I always imagined he had someone like that 'cause he realized how much stronger someone like that made you. I don't know what the Doctor did when he was alone, and I keep pushing it out of him that he always liked companions but after Rose then Martha left him in such a way, I'm amazed he continues to hurt himself like that."

I smiled at the words, looking at the map and frowning. What was it about Andromeda and Triangulum that drew me?

"Holmes drew friends, but I believe I am the only one who has stayed. In a way, I'm sure he is unsure himself why I stay."

Miss Noble snorted at the pronouncement then suddenly touched my hand, keeping me on a star point as she marked the other two stars before I saw it.

A triangle in a triangle, one that possibly had some importance if she just now noticed it. Her eyes were wide with disbelief before she said, "Oh, I can't believe it!"

"What?" I asked, looking at the formation.

"The place we went to, it was here," she pointed to Messier Object 33, "and that's a whole bloody galaxy. He's giving up where he's from to taunt Holmes!"

* * *

_Donna_

If I wasn't so used to running, jumping, and all other activities usually associated by most anyone with time spent with the Doctor, I think I might have almost missed the cab that we had gotten, the notes about the stars and when the man might strike next in Watson's hands as he got us to Scotland Yard. The earlier part of the day had been pleasant enough, but now night was beginning to fall and I was growing sleepy as it was. The few times that the Doctor or I stayed overnight anywhere was the times we got stuck somewhere, or when we had no choice like during our stay at Pompeii or that latest adventure with Agatha Christie. I couldn't think of my time inside the great database moon of the Library as any time at all, really, as I had learned that when I spoke or thought of something, it was done, so as to 'keep space low' with all the people the Library had to rescue from the shadows.

I hadn't told Watson that, or some of the other times the Doctor and I had been force to act as judges or juries in any sense of the term. I had seen him at his most terrible, as he was as an executioner against the children of the Racnoss Queen, and I had seen him as a kind person, offering to save someone who, by all means, probably shouldn't have been saved. He was a self-sacrificing idiot and I cared for him as I would care for a brother.

The thought lead me back to Watson and Holmes. When I had yelled at Holmes, I knew full well that the fact that I had almost suggested Holmes didn't care for Watson would've been one to easily make or break how the man viewed me. I almost regretted saying it but when I'm angry, even the Doctor has to step back. I had yelled at him, all but pushing him back to Pompeii for that family. I had yelled at the man who told us the Ood welcomed that sadness and the lobotomy done to make them servants. I hated being overlooked by others when it turned out they were just as idiotic as anyone else, and I most certainly _hated _how the Doctor had treated Jenny till the end. All I wanted was to scream at them all, ask what it was that kept them so closed up or stupid to what was going on? Sure, I had not always seen these things, and learned that the _Titanic _replica was real from the Doctor and grandda, but since meeting him I had seen that there was so much more.

I jumped out with Watson, who paid the cab as we hurried in, heading over to Lestrade's office in the hopes of finding him or Holmes. He hadn't known about deduction or anything until he began traveling with Holmes. Holmes hadn't realized the value of some things until Watson agreed to it as well.

I waited with Watson in the small room as Holmes walked in, casting me that gray-eyed look which said we were on neutral ground, our main concern of keeping Watson safe the only thing that allowed him to tolerate my presence near him. I vaguely remembered that he had called Watson's decision to marry someone as 'abandoning him' for a wife. How selfish the man was!

"I think we have something, Holmes," Watson told him as he and I explained what I had seen, the strange symbol for that planet near the Triangulum galaxy. Holmes nodded, taking down the time before saying, "This will indeed help narrow _something _down."

I frowned at that, wondering at the tone before Watson asked, "How do you mean?"

"Watson, there are numerous people in London alone who are named 'John', and still a few with a name that is between Witsan and Watson, letter-wise. Lestrade is attempting to get constables around the area, and while this will help us narrow down the time to between midnight and one, it doesn't help us figure out where the man will strike or how."

I crossed my arms, remembering the odd numbers that everyone overlooked and that I had figured out, as well as the other small things that the Doctor had always remarked as something "brilliant" about. "Every small thing counts, Mr. Holmes," I told him as cordially as I could, "you don't have to belittle our efforts by saying they were all for naught."

Watson looked ready to get between us, again, but Lestrade saved him the trouble, arriving to state he had been able to narrow the list down to five and was able to get a good constable near the houses of each, as well as warn them of the danger, before suggesting that Watson, Holmes and I return to Baker Street, as we looked dead on our feet.

Holmes did, at least, but I had to admit it was probably for the same reason the Doctor looked it at times: they both were string-beans who ran around too much and had too much energy for their own good. While I probably was just as hard-pressed as Watson was at times to get the Doctor to explain things normally, like Holmes tended to _not _do, I had to admit that sleep sounded like a good idea.

Still, Holmes nixed the idea of himself leaving, stating he wished to carry this out to the end, and then suggesting a guard be on Baker Street as well, considering that Watson's life was still in danger and we weren't sure if the man wanted two innocents or three before he came after Watson.

So escorted, we headed back, where Mrs. Hudson was nice enough to lend me a night gown and even offered a change of clothing, which I declined before she stated she was going to leave in the morning, which Watson seemed eternally grateful for. After getting into the gown and a robe, as well as finding and making some tea, I headed upstairs to find Watson still up, though it was quite late and I was ready to fall asleep.

"Worried?" he asked as we had the tea.

"Somewhat," I said, covering a yawn, "but truth be told, even with all I've gone through, with the Doctor, and all that might be up the road…I can only hope for the best. Since I've been with him, I've seen people judged and realized I can't be sure what's right or wrong. I just know, and hope to continue knowing, that what he does is right."

He smiled, a smile between two people who understood that we were just along for the ride but we would stay there for as long as we could, and to hell with what the rest of the world, or even the rest of the universe, did to make us leave them.


	4. The Lonely Island

**To my one reviewer: Thank you! I'm glad you like it...and now maybe I should post the link here to that group I'm part of who likes Sherlock Holmes....**

A Lonely Island, sank 3 but no losses

_Holmes_

I stood outside the house of John Witson, knowing I was possibly just going on instincts but also knowing that despite this I could possibly be right. The progression of names and connection to Watson was drawing close, and this man was the closest of the five or so we were attempting to protect. He was also a writer, he too was once in the Army, was also wounded, and also is a doctor.

I shifted, wondering how long it had been since the clock struck half past midnight. If what Watson and that Noble woman found was correct, then within less then nine minutes, a crime would be committed, and if not here then upon my dear Boswell, for which I would never forgive myself for allowing to come to pass.

At the thought of the woman who had brought this all to Watson's attention, I frowned and glared at the bedroom window where Mr. Witson was. I knew for certain that the woman had some strange connection to the doctor, a connection I myself would never have truly, if the easy way in which she spoke with him said anything. She was one of maybe two or three people who could talk at me as she had, the others being Watson or Mycroft, and it was obvious that had I risen to the bait then she would have not had any qualms over slapping me, if it meant she got her point across.

My mild bitterness towards her faded as I remembered the conversation with the elusive Doctor over that item called a portable telephone. Despite his absent-minded nature at times, he seemed genuinely to care over what was going on, and Miss Noble seemed to be very much like Watson was to me: a person to keep him grounded and ensure that he wasn't rushing about too much. Perhaps that was the connection that Watson and she shared, the same type of companionship that would never leave, no matter what the danger, and would not leave unless you forced them into it, or gave them reassurances.

I frowned as I thought of risking a light to see the time when a scream echoed from the house, and I began to curse my luck as we raced there, the maid letting us in as I rushed up and looked over at where an open window showed the way down to a patch of grass that would have been hard, even for me, to reach, up or down. The man was obviously determined to get in anyway he could, and had taken the hardest way up to avoid us.

Inside the bathroom, John Witson was in a full tub, the water splashed around it showing off the signs of struggle, while the blood from what appeared to be a cut on his head filled it, distorting his image.

A fall into water…my own fall into Reichenburg which had been hinted at came to me again as Lestrade ordered for more men and for the guard around Baker Street to double. I said nothing, instead taking the cab back to my home and hoping that what I found there calmed my nerves.

Watson was next. Sometime within the dark of night, the man would come after Watson and attempt to kill him in some way, some way that was hinted at through his writing about myself and my work. How I cursed the day I allowed him to publish the stories! Why hadn't he simply turned them into what they should've been instead of those overly-romantic jokes that I always said they were?

Still, the one I had picked up while in France, which spoke of his guilt over the events at Reichenburg had stung me harshly. That Moriarty's brother had caused him to relive those horrid memories, in an effect to clear my own name and show the rest of the world the truth behind that snake of a man!

I walked into the sitting room and frowned, looking over at the image before me that caused something I would have to think of as jealousy to rise once more.

Both Miss Noble and Watson were on the settee, Watson asleep while Miss Noble was leaning against him. The two looked too much like best friends…or that they were married…

For a second I panicked. What if I'd gotten here too late? It was nearly 1.30 in the morning, the appointed hour for Watson's demise as that man had deemed it, in order to 'save' him.

I walked over silently, touching Watson's wrist and letting out a breath as I felt the steady rhythm that told me his heart was still working. He shifted and opened his eyes, smiling upon seeing me then frowning as he moved, disturbing Miss Noble who shook herself awake.

"Holmes," he said, his voice filled with concern, "What happened?"

There was the click of a revolver. "Nothing he likes."

* * *

_Donna_

I gasped as I saw the man, the six-shooter pointed at us as Holmes and Watson stood, I still considering if I should or not. I had put the phone within reach and, finally motioned to stand as well, grabbed the phone and pushed the appropriate button, hoping that the Doctor would take the hint and get us to safety.

With that done, I finally took a look at the one who had decided to kill Watson. He was, indeed, one of the most plain men you've ever seen, and currently covered in blood and water that I had to guess was from the last murder.

Holmes glared at him before saying, "The police are on their way over here, sir. I highly doubt you'll be able to get away with whatever elaborate murder scheme you have prepared for Watson in that time."

The murdered looked at the clock, then back to Holmes and nodded. "You're quite right. It's past the appointed time. Still, I suppose since you know that, it doesn't matter if I kill him now or later, so long as he's outside of your influence."

_Damn it, Doctor, get over here!_

I was almost half-hoping, as I saw him move and noticed the ferret-faced Lestrade sneaking into Holmes' room, that he wouldn't notice it before he pulled something out of a drawer then yelled, "Come out of there, Inspector. I don't think you'd be able to save him anyway. And you'd best lose your pistol as well." The gun took aim at me as I glared him down. I'd been faced with lasers and giant lava-monsters! I've yelled at people who were ready to cut my throat in the name of their oracle-goddess-person!

And I was still scared enough to be angry.

Lestrade walked in, dropping the pistol in front of the man as he put it on the far desk and showed off the Morrocan case.

Holmes stiffened as Watson glared at the man.

"I take it you realize what I'm going to do," the man stated simply.

"You'll be caught!" Lestrade yelled, probably trying to get someone downstairs to notice.

"I don't care," the man said with a smile, "so long as I do what I came here to--."

I've never been so happy to hear that damned sound!


	5. The BurntOrange Star

The Burnt-Orange Star, trapped Alpha and destroyed Omega

Lestrade had to blink a few times as the familiar place of Baker Street disappeared for a strange console and area that seemed to be a large canopy of lights and coral trees, near them a huge green item that moved and hummed while what appeared to be a mish-mash of items, some attached to a table and some not, was before him.

"What" "How" "Where" was what the three men who had been at gunpoint stated.

"NO!" came from the man before someone hit him rather hard with a hammer, smiling and looking up at them.

"Sorry! I was over near the Jupiter II when I got the phone call. Well, really it was a moon of Jupiter II but still, it was a ways away. I should take you there, I took Rose and Martha to New Earth and you've never been there. Maybe we should--."

"DOCTOR!" Miss Noble's voice echoed in the area as Holmes and Watson looked around while she marched over and looked ready to give him a rather painful dressing-down.

Instead, she hugged him and then proceeded to hit him on the arm.

"OW!"

"What're you doing, travelin' all over time and space when we're in serious danger?"

"I just popped over and…and you're wearing a nightgown."

"SHUT IT!"

Lestrade headed over to cuff the man as he finally got a good look at the man called "The Doctor". He was about as tall as Holmes, his hair sticking out all over and making him look like her always got out of bed and had no time to do a proper toilet. His suit was something that Lestrade had to guess was in style always, though the odd red shoes he wore set him apart.

"Oh, you must be Lestrade," he said happily, "lovely to meet you, really is. And that must be Doctor Watson and Mr. Holmes! Oh, you two are brilliant! Really, you both are, but, no time for that, we have to get this man back."

"BACK?" Lestrade found his voice as he walked up to the Doctor while Miss Noble said simply, "Then I'm going to change. You could at least let Doctor Watson get a change as well."

"Oh, yes, true, can't go about saving the world in pajamas! I did that once, though, really chilly, not the best to start a sword-fight with."

Miss Noble grabbed Watson's hand, taking him off deeper into the area as Holmes and Lestrade both found their voices, "Now see here--."

"No time, at least not for us. Don't worry, you'll probably get him back. In the meantime!" He threw a switch, and both Lestrade and Holmes reached out to grab something as the odd area tilted to the left, shaking and tossing them both around if they weren't careful to grab the railing or table full of items as the Doctor raced around, grabbing hold or moving with the rocking before it all stopped and he nodded, "There we go!"

"There what?" Lestrade yelled, standing and unable to take it anymore. "I demand to know what's going on here, and I demand that you let me leave with my prisoner!"

The Doctor blinked at him, then pointed. "You can open the door, but I wouldn't suggest going out."

"OH, and why is that?"

The Doctor's eyes seemed serious as Lestrade, wanting nothing to do with this strangeness, stormed down, opened the door….

And came up short as he looked out at something that no one from that time had yet to see.

* * *

_Watson_

I must admit, whatever I had heard about the remarkable ship called TARDIS, it had not involved a rather large wardrobe area which spanned not only centuries, but genders and various types of clothing. Miss Noble had directed me to where some suits around my fashion were before disappearing herself into another section, leaving me to ponder over a choice of a rather nice gray suit or a brown one that also worked. I did try to ignore some of the more outrageous articles I saw, one of which included a rather long and colorful scarf, a jacket with a faded piece of what I had to guess was celery, and a cane shaped like a question mark before I heard Miss Noble's voice from the other side of the curtain. "Ready?"

"A minute," I told her, settling the collar and tie before stepping out, blinking at the transformation she had undergone.

Miss Noble's hair was down, showing off it's medium length while a purple shirt, a dark red jacket, and long, form-fitting pants were on her. She gave me a smile and turned around once. "What do you think?" she asked.

I gave her a smile, "Not exactly the fashion I'm used to, but lovely all the same. And I?"

"Oh, you look like a younger Edward Hardwicke!"

I smiled despite not knowing the reference before we stumbled briefly, she telling me to hold onto the railing as she and I made our way back towards the front of the ship, passing by various rooms, including a kitchen, a chemistry area, the largest library I've ever seen, what appeared to be a rather dusty attic, and two bedrooms, one labeled "Rose".

I decided to not ask, remembering what she had said about the Doctor and his love of traveling, his enjoyment of traveling with Companions…and the almost inescapable fate that all had of being torn away from him in some way or another.

We reached the main room in time to hear the Doctor explaining to Lestrade and Holmes, "That is the Eagle Nebula, some seven thousand light years away from Earth. The light from here takes seven thousand of your years to reach it, and in that time, this place is creating new life, new stars to be seen in the night sky." He paused as the two got closer and obviously smiled at the two who were looking out the open door, "Pretty nice, huh?"

"Are you making them accept we're not on Earth anymore?" Miss Noble yelled as I walked over to take my own look outside, gasping at the beauty of the colors, the myriad of stars and pillars around us.

"Just a little," the Doctor muttered.

"How can we breath?" I asked, remembering briefly that someone mentioned there was no air in outer space.

"The TARDIS," Miss Noble said, "It protects us. Wanna close the door now, it's near freezing."

Lestrade and I obliged as the Doctor looked over at the still-stunned Holmes. I was indeed startled, though the Doctor seemed happy about the fact anyway.

"So!" he finally said, "Sorry for the halfway point, I wanted to stop so I didn't have to explain everything later." He looked down at the now-awake and very disgruntled man that Lestrade had, luckily, shackled to the railing earlier. "We need to get back to his home in order to make sure he's human. I don't think anyone wants an autopsy done and them fine an extra liver or anything."

"I could always do it," I pointed out.

Lestrade shook his head, and I knew he was indeed right, since I had been a target of the man. Holmes looked over at the Doctor before saying, "And we can get back in time? How would we explain Watson's new outfit, or the disappearance of the woman?"

"OI!"

The Doctor paused at that before saying, "Well, she could have left for home, and knowing Watson he was waiting up for you with his revolver but it got taken in the struggle. After all, the only witnesses are you, Watson, and Lestrade. Who's to say you're lying?"

I smiled as Holmes asked the Doctor more questions, mainly concerning the case while I walked over to the small two-person seat that was nearby, settling myself before the Doctor said, "Donna, I think it's time we got back and got this over with! Want to help?"

She smiled, taking a spot as the Doctor, in a rush of activity that I normally saw in Holmes while Holmes and Lestrde stepped back, sent the ship rocking yet again before it stopped just as abruptly, nearly throwing us all to the floor.

* * *

_Holmes_

We were able to get up as the Doctor rushed to grab a long, light-colored coat nearby on a crook of the ship before asking Lestrade to help him with the convict. Lestrade had complied, obviously still too startled to really do anything but what was told by a figure that was obviously a higher authority then either of us were.

I stood myself, watching as Miss Noble and Watson came over, Watson asking Miss Noble how she knew to drive the ship and she explaining she had wanted to learn and asked the Doctor. She also explained that we were in the future and on another planet, but not to worry because the TARDIS had a translation circuit of some sort that allowed us to speak what they were, and us to understand what they were saying. I realized that explained how one could travel in such a haphazard fashion without learning a language, though Miss Noble explained that the time they had gone to Pompeii, she had tried saying something in Latin to a person and it came out as Gaelic instead.

We walked out the door and I turned to see what it was that had come into our sitting room and taken us here, only to find Lestrade and Watson doing much the same thing as the Doctor closed and locked the door, going over to talk with another group of people who held the convict.

It was a simple blue box, one that possibly could hold two grown men in tight quarters. The three of us walked around it twice as Miss Noble waited before the Doctor came up and said, "Yes, bigger on the inside. Shall we go and explore? We have an hour."

That got some response from Lestrade. "An hour! What about the convict?"

"It'll take that long," one of the remaining men, who was possibly an inspector, said, "to process him so you can take him away and have his trial in your own time. As he was already sentenced here and his treatment was supposed to be complete, we cannot keep him here due to insanity and, because he did so much damage to your own world, you have every reason to take him back."

Lestrade looked at the Doctor, who said, "We'll be back without anyone realizing you were gone, don't worry."

I patted Lestrade on the shoulder as we walked over the small hill and stopped, gazing out at what appeared to be a city, though it was unlike any I'd ever seen, stretching out over a lake of glittering glass and rubies, the sands themselves like miles of golden dust and the sky an azure color you never got on Earth.

"Welcome to the year 50 billion 81, and this, lady and gentlemen, is New Earth. That over there is New New London."

"New…_New_ London?" Watson tried as they looked over the whole of the spires and such around them.

"Of course," the Doctor said, motioning to the grass as they all sat, I noticing the odd smell of the grass as much as the view we were given of the area. "A few years ago, the Sun expanded and as such, the old Earth was destroyed. A few years after that, everyone got a little nostalgic, and found this place, New Earth! They built a New New York, a New New Orleans, and a New New London. I come here ever couple of years to see how things are going." He paused in thought. "Strictly speaking that's actually the fifteenth New London, so it's really--."

"Are we going to go and look or not?" Donna yelled, looping her arm into Watson's and pointing to the city, "Come on, you can tell us all about it on the way there."

I pulled up some grass and asked, holding it out to the Doctor, "And this?"

"Apple grass," the Doctor said with a smile then frowning as the wisps of grass blew away, but then smiled again. "So, let's go, like Donna said. So much to explore, so little time! Oh, don't go wandering off on your own either, I don't like it and people tend to get in trouble when they do. Just ask Donna, though she doesn't do that a lot."

Miss Noble reached over to slap the Doctor's arm as we headed into the city, though I had to admit it was indeed one of the oddest I'd ever been in. At least twice I'd seen various species of humanoids who appeared to be cats, and one suddenly stopped and hugged the Doctor.

"Brannigan!" the Doctor yelled happily hugging him back before saying, "How are you? You seem a little older…what are you doing in New New London?"

"Oh, me and the Missus needed a break, and decided flyin' over here was the best choice," the cat-man said in an Irish brogue. "So who're all these you're travelin' with?"

An introduction was made, with the cat-man smiling and nodding before offering to buy us drinks nearby at a pub he owned. Miss Noble was all for it, and we ended up there, Miss Noble playing Watson in a game of pool while Lestrade, much to his surprise, was being chased after by a rather pretty tabby-cat.

Miss Noble laughed as he headed over to them, though the tabby followed as Brannigan laughed.

The Doctor looked over at him. "Friend of yours?"

"My sister-in-law. She loves a man with 'cuffs." I snorted into my drink, something rather lovely that apparently was a type of brandy that Brannigan had said was good and I had taken his word for it.

As I sat, I finally asked the Doctor, "Why did you look sad when I asked about the grass?"

He looked at me then back down as Brannigan headed off to deal with someone before saying, "The first time I decided to get another Companion after…after a war I had been in, for some reason I took her to see the destruction of her own planet." He leaned back, his own hands around a glass of water. "I was so sad and angry at it all, but she had helped me. I guess in a way I wanted her to deal with it, to see her reaction. She reacted as anyone would to seeing their planet gone, but in a way…in a way I guess Rose Tyler was my John Watson." He smiled at me, shrugging his shoulders as I realized what he meant. Without halving my rent with Watson, I possibly would not be alive today. It took his calm effort and cool thinking at times to get us out of jams, and had it not been for the thought of seeing someone like him again, I possibly wouldn't have returned to London at all.

"We came here," the Doctor continued, "and then after a long while she…she got lost. I ended up bringing someone else here on our second adventure, and she made me face down a lot of things. Donna seems to get all the fun trips."

I smiled at that, remembering the fact that we had just caught a murder and she had to face down someone with a gun. "Does she now?"

"First trip she makes me go back for a family and also tries to save Pompeii…" the Doctor shook his head as we drank. "I'm telling you, if Watson was there as well I might've carted off more people, and changed too much history. As it was, she took a liking to the family, and it was the right thing to do." He got a refill and then helped me as well to another. "Then we go to the planet of the Ood…oh, that might take some of the whole bottle…" After a nod from Brannigan, the Doctor gave me the bottle before continuing with his story.

* * *

_Donna_

"You're a bloody cheat you!" I yelped as he sunk yet another ball into the pocket. He laughed as he lost one, giving me a chance to catch up. I was able to look over and see that Lestrade had finally given up running away and was showing off his wedding ring, while the obviously distraught tabby took it well, probably asking about becoming a second wife or something equally silly. Holmes and the Doctor were sharing the bottle of something dark that I probably should've warned Brannigan about, as I'd seen the Doctor drunk once and it hadn't been a pretty sight. Neither had the karaoke he'd done.

Watson looked over as I took aim, not speaking until I'd sunk my own before saying, "I hope it wasn't a bad idea to leave Holmes and the Doctor alone."

I looked over at it and smiled back at him. "If anything I think he's one of the few people that Holmes can understand."

Watson smiled at the idea as I returned to the game, watching as I took in two more before sighing at my missed shot, realizing how easy it was going to be for him to finish the game.

"I might get jealous," he muttered as he glared at the final ball, which he'd managed to make hard to get.

"You shouldn't," I pointed out as I looked at the shot and took another drink of apple wine, "It's not like he'd turn me in for Holmes. 'Sides, you two are mates like I am."

"I don't think Holmes needs to mate."

I nearly choked, almost missing a trick shot he pulled to get his final ball in.

"I hate that. I never would've thought you're that good with a pool cue," I muttered.

"Well, I play Thurston whenever I can," he said as he retrieved the group. "Another?"

"No, thanks, I learned my lesson." We sat down as the inspector from before walked in, greeting Brannigan and saying that the person would be ready in another ten minutes, asking if we wanted to wait for him near the TARDIS. The Doctor and Lestrade agreed, Lestrade thanking the man greatly for her help and he thanking him for being so understanding before leaving.

The Doctor leaned back as we headed over to find out what he was looking at the woman for. "What?" Lestrade asked.

The Doctor looked over at him suddenly and said, "I think he's a descendant of one of those Flesh people."

Brannigan looked up. "I hope you're not blaming _us _on that!"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no! It all turned out well in the end. New humans for a New Earth, always good, though rather annoying how it started…and I'm not blaming you for that either! You were never part of it so I can't, now can I? How're the kids, by the way?"

I shook my head as I noticed an odd look that Holmes was giving me, causing me to glare at him as Watson looked on before Holmes asked, "Is it true you hit the Doctor on your first encounter?"

I didn't expect that question, but at it I nodded. "Twice."

"I see. And me?"

"You're asking for me to slap you?"

Holmes shook his head. "No, no, only if you _would've_."

I bristled. "I otta slap you for _that _question!"

"It's just a question, and a rightful one, consider what you implied earlier."

"And I otta slap you for it!"

"I'd like to see you try."

In hindsight, he did ask for it.

* * *

"Stop _laughing_, Lestrade!"

Watson didn't blame him for it, a few feet ahead Miss Noble stalking towards the TARDIS with the Doctor between the two, mostly to keep them away from one another.

"What, exactly, were you thinking, Holmes?"

"More like what he _wasn't_," Lestrade muttered through his giggling.

Watson ignored the jibe and waited for Holmes to answer as the great detective rubbed his sore cheek before saying quietly, "I suppose some of it was the drink. Other parts was possibly just that I felt a little left-out."

"I didn't see the Doctor seeing if he could get me to slap him."

Holmes chuckled at the thought. "The day you lose your temper in such a way is a day I'd hate to see, my dear Watson."

"Holmes…"

He looked off to the side, back towards New New London before saying, "You left me once for a wife. I was almost afraid that it would happen again."

Watson came up short, looking at Holmes before saying simply, "I wouldn't leave you for that. Besides, there is a good deal of cases left for us, I would think, and Miss Noble isn't about to be tied down if she can help it."

Holmes looked a little embarrassed at admitting to it, though Lestrade and almost everyone else was far enough away that they probably didn't hear him, and Watson patted his arm. "Holmes, if I _did _decide anything of the sort, then I assure you I would ask her to stay, and I know that can't happen. As well, I know you cannot leave London for fear of what might happen in our absence. We did discuss this."

He frowned at his friend. "You did?"

"While you were gone, and we were waiting up…shortly before we fell asleep, actually. She wished to marry but was happy with traveling. I didn't wish to leave you alone again, not if it means I cannot return and must worry about you constantly."

Holmes finally smiled a little and motioned towards the small hill. "I believe we've got to catch up with the rest."

The two headed back up, Donna waiting at the stop for them.

"You two done?"

"I believe we are," Watson said as Holmes gave her a small glare.

"Oh, good. Then we can get you three back with your prisoner, and it'll be another feather in Holmes' cap."

Holmes spoke up now, "It's really in Lestrade's cap."

Donna shook her head and then said simply, "I'm sorry, by the way."

"It's alright. I probably shouldn't have overreacted."

"Isn't that my line?"

Watson smiled as the group entered the TARDIS and once more headed back to London.

* * *

Donna hugged Watson as they headed out, stopping to offer Holmes a handshake that he accepted with good-grace, the two nodding to one another before he also walked out, the two watching as the large blue box's doors closed and then there was a whirling sound before it disappeared from view, slowly fading as if never there.

Holmes got his pipe out as Watson sat in his armchair, looking over at Holmes before saying, "I suppose I should be glad I didn't take notes on this case."

Holmes smiled as he lit his pipe. "Indeed. I don't believe anyone would believe so fantastic a story."

Watson nodded, going to work on another before Holmes finally voice another concern he'd been having. "Watson. If I had gone…would you have married Miss Noble?"

Watson looked over at him then back down to his book. "I don't think I would've so soon. It appears those two are rather like brother and sister, and honestly I don't know how well I went over with the Doctor as opposed to Donna." A thought occurred to him. "You and the Doctor were rather chatty before we headed over."

"He was explaining a few things," Holmes told Watson, "Mostly that traveling with him is very dangerous. He also said he's hardly had a Christmas go by the past few years that didn't involve something else causing it to snow."

Watson crossed his arms, thinking. "Perhaps, if we see him again, we can invite him to Christmas next."

"You want an excuse for mistletoe."

"Holmes!"

* * *

The Doctor looked over at her as Donna sighed, sitting in the jumpchair and looking a little sad.

"Wanna go back to visit?"

She looked over at him before shaking her head. "No point in dragging them from where they're needed, even if we can drop them back down a few minutes afterwards. Plus I think Lestrade might take offense to us taking his friend and also the one who solves most of his crimes."

The Doctor frowned at her as she looked down before saying, "I have it!"

She looked at him in surprise as he raced around, "We've not had a break from anything recently, and I know the best place to go. It's a planet with a huge spa for us to relax in. You ready? We can go there, then another planet that's just one big market. Two good planets, one for relaxing and one for shopping. Nothing bad can happen there, can it?"

She smiled at him, her first real one since Watson and Holmes had gotten off the TARDIS. "You're right. We can go and visit after all of this, can't we? After all, we have all of Time!"

* * *

Mrs. Hudson never told the good Doctor or Mr. Holmes about the dress that once belonged to Miss Noble, having sent it to the cleaners once and happily packing it away, for the Doctor and Mr. Holmes were always talking about how, one day, Miss Noble might reappear. Even Inspector Lestrade had the same opinion.

So she never had the heart to tell the Doctor or Holmes about the young man who wandered in once when they were gone, saying he needed the dress. She had tried to stop him, really, but after explaining who he was, and that Miss Noble would never return to get the dress herself, Mrs. Hudson decided it was best to not mention it again.


End file.
